


And I know what you're feeling, 'Cause I feel it as well

by melancholymango



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AFAB Language Warning, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Artist Keith (Voltron), Getting Together, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Pining, Nonbinary Lance (Voltron), Oral Sex, Other, Overstimulation, Roommates, Service Top Lance (Voltron), Sexual Frustration, They/Them Pronouns for Lance (Voltron), Trans Keith (Voltron), Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:14:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23583664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melancholymango/pseuds/melancholymango
Summary: “Geez, look at these bad boys. How are you meant to do anything with those on?”“I’m about to find out, given I’m not allowed to fucking take them off for two weeks.” Keith grumbles under his breath, letting his anger show a little more now that he knows he’s been roped into this conversation like it or not. But it’s hard to be mad at Lance at the best of times, even more so when their face has gone all soft with sympathy.“Two weeks!?” They repeat in a harsh whisper, like they can’t believe it. “Oh, Keith.”--Keith pushes himself too hard when drawing and wakes up the next morning in borderline agony, which inevitably leads him to the doctor's office where they order him to wear wrist-wraps for two weeks. Some things are easier to navigate without the full function of his hands than others... but luckily he has Lance to help him out!
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 477





	And I know what you're feeling, 'Cause I feel it as well

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! Just in case anyone didn't read the tags for some reason, this fic does use AFAB language to refer to Keith, who is a trans man. If that's not your thing for any reason, feel free to click off and catch me on the next fic.
> 
> This was written for the amazing @ez_kzley on twitter, so tip your hat to him for requesting it!!
> 
> also just a quick note: author is not a trans male, i am a nonbinary fool, but i did as much research as i could reading fics written by authors that ARE trans men and i am ALWAYs always always open to educating myself further so if there's anything you wanna comment on in this fic, don't hesitate! 
> 
> Okay, that's all, go ahead and read the fic now!!

Somewhere, buried deep beneath the stubbornness and the layers of denial, Keith had _ known _ he was being careless. He was caught up in the moment, thrilled by how productive he was being, and when the telltale ache had set in throughout his wrists… he’d paid it no mind. It wasn’t anything unbearable, after all, not at the time. It was nothing he hadn’t experienced before and pushed through. Sure, he’d be sore tomorrow, but he would have a finished piece of art to show for it, so what would it matter then? 

Except it  _ did _ matter then, when pain worse than he’d ever experienced shot straight up his forearms every time he so much as clasped his fingers around something. It wasn’t as simple as just using his other hand either, given he was ambidextrous, had pushed them both to their limits trying to finish up his latest project. It was a digital painting with countless small details of a grocery store aisle, every single product meticulously captured in complete detail. Of course his hands were both shot after that, in hindsight.

He tried everything, from giving his hands a break, to using them excessively, nothing seemed to better it. So he sat in resigned agony until that night, when he fell asleep, hoping for a change tomorrow.

Only there wasn’t a change on the second day either, it was just as bad, if not worse. And the day after that. And the day after that, even. The pain didn’t seem to be going anywhere.

In the end, it wasn’t even  _ Keith’s  _ decision to go to the doctor. He was determined not to admit that it was as big of a problem as it was, figured it would pass on its own if he just persevered a bit longer. 

It came down to Keith making cereal one morning and clearly struggling to open the brand new box where it was glued shut. That was a red flag in itself, when he sheepishly held it out to his roommate and Lance obliged him, opening it despite the suspicion displayed plain in their blue eyes.

But then Keith had made his fatal mistake: attempting to lift, unscrew the cover off of, and pour from the oversized milk jug all on his own. He managed alright, until it came time to tip and pour it into his bowl, at which point everything promptly went to shit. 

A surge of blinding pain hit him out of nowhere and he cried out, hand spasming and then seemingly locking up in the ungodly position it was in. The milk jug dropped from his grasp at this point, the full weight of it falling into his cereal bowl. Milk and cereal alike flew everywhere. The table, the tiled floor, the kitchen cupboards…  _ Lance’s hair _ that they’d just meticulously styled before their classes were due to start. 

Fuck.

“ _ Keith _ .” Lance’s tone isn’t mad per se, they’re not really the type. Somehow though, the generic disappointment and pout does far worse things to Keith than anger could have. He drops his gaze, feels guilt crawling through him for not sharing his predicament with Lance before now. Normally, they make a point to share everything with each other, they don’t really have boundaries. Keith never would have predicted he’d end up being such close friends with his anonymously-assigned dorm roommate.

But then Lance came charging into his life full-force, more or less refusing to take no for an answer when Keith sheepishly brushed them off for the first couple weeks. Lance is just like that, a social butterfly, a people-pleaser, a go-getter. When they set their mind to something, there really isn’t any deterring them from it. It’s equal parts inspiring and annoying, especially during moments like these. 

Lance is still staring at him now, their eyebrows raised expectantly. Keith sighs heavily, still wincing and cradling his hand to his chest. Reluctantly, he sits in the seat across from Lance, offers them a dish towel with a sheepish grin. They scowl, but start to slowly mop milk off their face.

“For the record, it’s not  _ that _ big of a deal.” Keith leads with, once the rag is tossed aside and Lance looks marginally less uncomfortable. 

“You’re incapable of making  _ cereal  _ successfully. That seems like a big deal to me, Keith.” Lance tells him matter-of-factly, as if daring him to challenge fact. And any other time, Keith might, but he knows where this is headed if he tries it. Lance will dare him to use his hands, to prove that it’s not as bad as it looks, and Keith isn’t sure he can use his hands for shit all right now. So he takes the fall, shoulders slumping in defeat before the argument can really even begin.

Lance kicks his foot under the table, drawing his attention back. “Talk to me, what’s up?”

“I might have pushed myself too hard drawing the other night. I was getting so much done and I was so close to finishing, I didn’t want to walk away from it. Though, in hindsight, I can admit that I probably should have. It’s been a few days now and I’m in so much pain, all day long, every single day. It’s worse when I try to use my hands for anything though, like holding things or pinching things. I’ve tried taking pain killers, and it helps a little, but it’s probably not the most reliable long-term solution.”

“No, probably not.” Lance is staring at him like he’s being entirely unreasonable. Keith shifts awkwardly in his seat, grumbles under his breath in a useless attempt to justify the means.

“It was that grocery store piece, the one you really liked when I showed it to you.”

“Yeah, it was amazing. Super impressive. Though, if I’d known you were fucking your hands over to make it, I probably would have liked it slightly less, just so we’re clear.” Well, damn Lance for managing to compliment him and scold him both in the same breath. Keith isn’t sure what to say to that, so he bites on his lip, stalling for time. He’s hoping to come up with a compelling argument before Lance, but he almost never does, so it’s not a surprise when he fails. “You should go to the doctor, Keith. You could be doing long-term damage to your hands by ignoring it. What would you even do with your life if you couldn’t draw day in and out? You’d be so fucking cranky and restless, I don’t think I’d be able to live with you anymore, honest.”

“Shut-up.” Keith snaps. He immediately regrets it, softens his tone as he continues. “It’ll probably go away on its own. It always has before…”

“How many times has it been this bad before?” Lance has a terrible habit of always phrasing things just right to get through Keith’s thick skull and force him to listen. No one else has ever possessed such a quality so it always manages to catch Keith off-guard. Keith hates that he’s starting to consider, as much as making a doctor’s appointment over something so small seems like a waste of time. 

“Well, never this bad, but it’s been bad before. It always passes with time.”

“And what if this is the time it doesn’t, Keith? What if the longer you put off going, the worse it gets?”

Damn it.

He knows Lance is right. It’s different this time, he isn’t bouncing back like he used to. What if that does mean he’ll never bounce back? That he’s broken something that can’t be repaired? He doesn’t even want to think about how terrible that outcome would be. Hell, it’s the whole reason he goes to this university in the first place. If he couldn’t draw, then he certainly wouldn’t be able to graduate.

And then what? His entire life derailed because he decided to push himself past his limits one night?

Keith slumps over the milk-covered table in defeat, uncaring when it soaks into the sleeves of his shirt, only a little bit caring when Lance giggles at him in response in that bubbly and warm way Keith loves so very much. See, if it was anyone else, it would’ve been so much easier to dismiss their concerns.

But it had to be Lance. It always has to be fucking  _ Lance _ .

How is he meant to say no to someone like that? Since the moment they’d first met, Keith had been trying to learn how to say no to Lance’s charming smile, their bright blue eyes, their annoyingly attractive sense of humor. He’d lasted a resolute month and a half before he was forced to admit that he was catching feelings for his roommate. 

It didn’t help that Lance was flirty by nature. They were just an exceptionally touchy feely person, open and brazen with their sexuality. Not that Keith minded, but it did work to make things even more confusing, leaving Keith to second-guess whether Lance was flirting with him as a friend, or flirting with him with intent behind it. He wasn’t sure he’d ever know for certain, at this rate.

So he lets Lance drop innuendo after innuendo, laughs it off like a joke. He winks back when Lance winks at him in public, like they have a secret between the two of them not made for anyone else to ever know. And when Lance leans into his side late at night watching movies in the comfort of their dorm, all soft smiles and quiet yawns, Keith stays right the fuck where he is until his entire arm goes numb with pins and needles... it’s a small price to pay, after all.

“Stop being all concerned for my well-being and shit, it’s annoying.” Keith tells them now, narrowing his eyes in what should be a scathing look, but probably comes across as condemningly lovestruck. Keith is losing control over this situation and he knows it. There’s no way that Lance _ doesn’t _ know it by now. He hasn’t exactly been subtle. He stares, he flirts, he pines so goddamn hard he thinks he’s losing his head with it.

But if Lance knows, they haven’t given the faintest opinion on it one way or the other. 

“Keith.” Lance draws his attention back to the moment, bats those long lashes at him. Keith feels his resolve crumble like a tangible thing, like the shores of a beach corroding away and falling into the water piece by piece. Lance smiles harder, like they already know they’ve gotten their way. “Please? For my peace of mind, if nothing else?”

“You’re _ just _ like your mother. A giant overprotective mother-hen type. I’m gonna remind you of this the next time she acts like you’re dying from the common cold and you come crying to me about her long-distance smothering. Don’t test me. I won’t come to your rescue like last time, accepting her calls and telling her that you’re in bed sleeping off the sickness.” 

“Whatever, just promise me you’ll look into it?” Lance insists, rising to their feet and placing two hands on the table in front of Keith’s slumped form. They’ve got that look about them that says they’re not gonna drop it, and Keith knows better than to challenge it by now. It’s better to quit while he’s ahead and has a shred of pride left. 

Besides, it probably _ is  _ in his best interests to get this checked out.

“I’ll look into it.”

\--

Keith regrets looking into it.

He’s sitting on the bus on his way back from his appointment, sulking to himself the slightest bit, staring dismally down at his hands where they rest in his lap. They’re almost totally engulfed by the ridiculous braces the doctor had suited him with. They’re bulky white things, hideous, and his annoyance grows the longer he stares at them... so he’s forced to look out the window instead.

Two weeks. 

That’s how long the doctor told him he had to wear them for, without pause. His hands needed bedrest, essentially, and this was the closest equivalent to that. He isn’t allowed to use his hands for  _ anything _ , unless absolutely necessary such as bathing and feeding himself. Any meticulous precise tasks that needed the use of his fingers? Fucking forget it. So no drawing, no painting, no using his _ phone _ . 

And though Keith has never been a particularly committed individual when it came to not breaking rules, the doctor had made it a point to really drill it into his head that this was  _ serious _ . If he wanted to heal properly and ensure he wouldn’t run into this problem again in the very near future, then he’d best take his rest seriously rather than layer new injuries on top of the old. Or worse yet, like Lance had suggested, risk it becoming a permanent ailment he _ couldn’t _ recover from.

So Keith is going to wear the damn braces.

That doesn’t mean he’s happy about it. Quite the contrary, he’s miserable, the entire trip home.

If he scowls at babies, makes a point not to accommodate the people shoving into his space at the bus stop, and blatantly ignores the vaguely familiar face that waves to him on campus? Well, it’s justifiable, considering his hands look like a sorry excuse for a mummy right about now. He has a right to be cranky today of all days and nothing is gonna stand in his way of that.

Until Lance, literally standing in his way, throws a wrench into his plans.

He comes storming through the door after struggling with the knob for a good thirty seconds, eager to crawl into his bed and mope for the foreseeable future. He’s so impatient that he doesn’t look where he’s going first, collides right into Lance where they’re toeing their shoes on in the doorway. They both stumble, Keith’s hands useless to catch himself, until Lance finally lands a hand on the wall and supports them both in what can only be described as an awkward hug.

Keith clumsily pries himself off of Lance’s chest, sure that his face is aflame with a blush.

“Oh, hey! How’d your appointment go? Everything back to normal now?” Lance asks him with a smile, their hand still resting on the curve of Keith’s hip. And it has no business feeling as heavy as it does, to the point that it’s all Keith can think about, every last one of his thoughts zeroing in on it. He doesn’t get it, how Lance can look so completely and utterly casual about it. Unaffected.

… Perhaps because _ they _ aren’t harboring a huge poorly-concealed crush.

“Not quite.” Keith bites out, trying not to be snippy when he knows Lance doesn’t deserve it. Still, he’s in a bad mood, and making a fool out of himself in front of the person he likes is hardly helping him feel better. He gently shrugs Lance’s hand off, planning on barreling past them and ending the conversation right where it is. But then Lance’s hand returns in an instant, this time gripping his wrist, and Keith knows he’s not gonna get away that easy.

“Geez, look at these bad boys. How are you meant to do  _ anything _ with those on?”

“I’m about to find out, given I’m not allowed to fucking take them off for two weeks.” Keith grumbles under his breath, letting his anger show a little more now that he knows he’s been roped into this conversation like it or not. But it’s hard to be mad at Lance at the best of times, even more so when their face has gone all soft with sympathy.

“Two weeks!?” They repeat in a harsh whisper, like they can’t believe it. “Oh,  _ Keith _ .”

And then Keith’s being engulfed in another hug, this one considerably less awkward and entirely intentional. He doesn’t complain either, leans into it despite being unsure what to do with his stump-like hands. He ends up resting them in the small of Lance’s back, burying his face into the other’s shoulder with a quiet sigh. As much as his plan of sulking in a fit of self-directed rage had been a valid option, he finds that he doesn’t mind this whole comforting thing either. 

“I hate my life.” Keith mutters into Lance’s sleeve. “Birth is a curse and existence is a prison.”

“Alright, alright, being dramatic is my thing, it doesn’t suit you.” Lance tells him, giving him a placating pat on the back between his shoulder blades. Then, regrettably, they pull away from the embrace to look Keith in the eye. “You’ll get through it. It’s only two weeks. It could be two  _ months _ . Aren’t you glad you decided to go when you did? Before it got worse?”

“I  _ guess _ .” Keith relents, mostly because he’s not sure how much longer he can stand to have Lance so close to him, staring so openly and earnestly into his eyes. He’s sure that he’d put up a better fight otherwise, but as it is Lance has a definite advantage. He already feels himself relaxing, his anger and frustration taking a backseat to the warmth that spreads through him whenever Lance is near.

“And hey, if you need me to step up and help out with cooking and cleaning? Say the word. I’ve got your back through this. I don’t mind at all, I want you to get better as quickly as you can.” Lance says it like it’s a given, like Keith shouldn’t even have to wonder. It does funny things to his heart, the blind loyalty.

“Thanks, Lance.”

“Don’t mention it.” They insist, shrugging their shoulders. “Happy to help.”

At that, they come to a standstill. Keith’s half-tempted to suggest they order food in and set up the tv for a marathon of some type, given that’s all he really feels up to at the moment. But the fact stands that Lance has their shoes on and half-tied, like they were in the middle of leaving when Keith showed up, and Keith isn’t going to ask them to stay home and miss out on things just to bum on the couch with him. Though he really, really wants to.

“Were you going somewhere?” He asks instead, figures that’s the safer bet.

“Uhh…” Lance glances back toward the door, reaching behind their head to scratch at the nape of their neck. Slowly, their shoulders hike upward into a shrug, dismissive. Then they turn back to Keith, wearing that devilish smile that leaves Keith helpless to object. “Nowhere important. I’ll stick around here with you in case you need anything.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Keith tries to hold his ground, but he’s fighting a losing battle and they both know it. Lance gives him this look, eyebrows raised and lips curled into a lopsided smirk.

“Between you and me, it sounds like more fun than a tutoring session with Pidge anyway.”

\--

During the following days, Keith can’t help but notice that Lance spends a lot more time around the dorm than they normally do. Their presence is definitely appreciated, as Keith quickly realizes he’s more or less useless in regards to feeding himself, housework, and note-taking for his classes. Lance helps him with whatever they can, a constant reassuring and positive highlight in Keith’s otherwise monotonous days. The next two weeks couldn’t pass him by fast enough.

It’s around the five day mark that a particular struggle of the wrist braces makes itself known, belated compared to every other bump in the road he’s hit so far. No, most pains in his ass he’d caught onto pretty fast, like trying to hold a fork, or trying to brush his hair (both things that Lance graciously offered to help him with, though Keith vehemently denied him out of embarrassment). In the end, everything he’d come across so far, could technically be done with the braces on. It just meant getting creative, or putting in extra effort, or spending far more time at it. 

He’d managed everything on his own… up until _ this  _ thing. 

This thing that he could not,  _ under any circumstances _ , ask for Lance’s help with.

With a frustrated and defeated huff, Keith collapses face-first into the pillows and resists the urge to shout into one out of anger. His right arm is aching again, pain shooting through his nerve endings to the point he has to flatten it against the mattress and simply wait for it to pass. All the while, he frowns, and rubs his thighs together to try and stave off the desire coursing through his guts.

Because yes, that’s the problem he’s facing, the issue he’s trying to overcome that’s got him absolutely stumped. This is what’s managed to defeat him, to squash his spirits like a bug. It’s one thing clumsily gripping a fork and ending up stabbing his tongue, or ripping out his hair in his efforts to drag a brush through it at all the wrong angles, but how the hell is he meant to get himself off with little to no control over his hands? 

He’s never considered it a particularly complicated process, he’s never struggled to reach his orgasm in his life, especially not since his libido shot through the roof after starting T a year and a half ago… but for fuck’s sake, he needs to be able to actually  _ move  _ his fingers to touch himself, and the braces don’t give him much wiggle room to do that. 

Keith groans into his pillow, hips working clumsily against the mattress, desperately seeking any sort-of friction against his aching clit. Better yet would be if he could get something inside of himself, his fingers, a toy, literally anything would do at this point. He feels so jarringly empty, especially with how soaked he is, loose and open from how turned on he’s been all day.

But no, there’s no bending his wrists, and there’s not really any angle he can fuck a toy into his ass or his cunt that doesn’t include that range of movement. Right about now, he’s desperately wishing he’d invested in a suction-cup dildo, one he could stick to the floor or the wall and have his fun hands-free.

To be perfectly honest, Keith isn’t sure what set him off this time. It could have been anything really, from watching Lance spoon yogurt into their mouth at the table this morning, to any one of the sex scenes in the movies Keith’s been binging lately with nothing better to do, or maybe it was just the way his jeans hugged his body with the seam rubbing against him. These days, it doesn’t take much to rile him, but it takes a lot to calm him down again after.

Right about now, it’s not looking like there’s an end in sight for him. It only seems to be getting worse the more he tries to get himself there. He gets just enough friction to keep himself hard, for the arousal to remain hot and heavy at the forefront of his mind, blood pumping and adrenaline spiking. But it’s nowhere near enough to climb the incline to his peak and come anywhere close to orgasm. It’s a tease, a terrible self-edging session that he wants nothing to do with, but there’s no other solution in sight.

In a last ditch attempt at getting himself there, Keith rolls over to lean over his bed and yank his drawer open. He roots around for a second and returns with a silk bag that he struggles to untie for what must be five minutes or more. Eventually he manages to get the well-loved toy out, the first and only vibrator he’d ever felt the need to buy. It’s a rabbit vibe with dual ears that hug his growth while he fucks himself with it, usually making him come in a minute or two at most.

He couldn’t exactly use it to its full potential in his current state though, so he simply flicks the switch to turn it on and tosses it onto the bed. With a hint of shame about him, and a silent thank-you to the gods that Lance decided to go out with friends today and finally give him some much-needed alone time, Keith swings a leg over to the other side and settles down flat against the mattress to straddle the toy.

It doesn’t get anywhere close to inside of him, but the vibrations against the whole of his sex do more for him than humping the bed and uselessly fumbling with his hands had. Like this, he thinks he can make the grueling and slow climb to orgasm, though he’s not sure it’ll be nearly as satisfying as it normally is. 

The pleasure builds through him in a slow crawl, no matter how he tries to rush it along. His hair splays across the pillow as he rubs his forehead across it, panting uselessly while he works his hips against the mattress. It’s hard to believe he’s not closer than he is with how wet he is, the entire inside of his thighs soaked and the toy sliding through his folds with no resistance whatsoever.

Eventually, after a frustrating journey, Keith feels his climax begin to find him. His clit is throbbing, his cunt fluttering uselessly around the toy, and he’s sure by now he’s left a visible wet spot in the sheets with how wet and ready he is. His eyes have slipped closed at some point, tired of rolling back into his head in torturous pleasure each time a wave would hit him and be just south of enough to make him come. But now, now he’s close, so close that the steady buzz of the toy is all he can focus on, eyebrows furrowing together in concentration as he tries to replicate that same angle where the toy’s vibrations hit him just right.

… And that’s about the moment that it all goes to shit.

“Hey Keith, you awake?” Keith freezes. The door creaks open. Lance continues to speak casually, clearly not having spotted him in the dark of his room yet. Every single one of their footsteps echoes loud in Keith’s ears, so much louder than the toy buzzing between his legs. “I was just wondering about dinner, what are you in the mood for ton-” 

There it is. That shocked gasp Keith was expecting. 

He doesn’t even bother to roll around in the blankets in an effort to cover himself, figures it’ll only embarrass him further to show how much he struggles with the blankets with the braces on. Plus, it’s pretty much all on display at this point anyway, given Lance is staring at him from behind his widespread legs. He does, at least, have the decency to close those.

He doesn’t, however, have the common sense to try and fumble with the vibrator to turn it off. It’s a nice background soundtrack to the conversation they’re about to have, and a nice distraction for Keith from his own mortification where it vibrates clumsily against his thigh after sheepishly shifting away from the onslaught of pleasure. God, Lance is definitely gonna contact the dean about a roommate switch after this one, the sheer awkwardness of living together after this would be unsurmountable. 

“Keith, I am _ so  _ sorry.” Lance finds their words eventually, though they sound shaky and unfamiliar given the tone they’re spoken in. Lance never talks to him like that, they are always laid back, always flexible and content to go with the flow. This, this choppy disjointed stutter they’ve got going on? Not good. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Ugh, don’t even fucking say it. I’m so not in the mood to stomach this conversation.” Keith tells them plainly, burying his face further into his pillow in hopes of smothering himself. It doesn’t help that he’s still so pent-up, not having come yet, but not far off from it if he could only get the stimulation where he fucking needs it. His hands are bunched into the closest thing to fists they can be with the braces on, and he slowly lifts his head to look back over his shoulder, gauging to see if Lance has left yet.

Only they haven’t. They’re still standing there. Eyes wide. Face flushed. Hands frozen in the air like they’d been in the middle of gesticulating when they realized what exactly they were staring at. Keith quirks an eyebrow. “Were you planning on leaving or are you figuring you’ll stick around to watch me make a fool of myself some more? Cheap entertainment, I guess.”

“Going, going-” Lance stutters out, turning on their heel and darting back out of the room. No sooner has Keith relaxed back into the sheets does his door creak again, Lance poking their head through the crack of light. “Hey, uh, I can’t help but notice-”

“That I’m getting off in the most obtuse and impractical way I possibly could? Yeah, that’s what happens when you don’t have use of your hands. Shit sucks.” Keith snarks, finally reaching a hand blindly down the bed and locating the blanket. He drags it over his body with little finesse, covering his ass and then promptly giving up on pulling it any higher than that. Lance is still… standing there. Staring. They open their mouth and close it again a couple times, at a loss for words for once in their life.

They look good, though Keith is pretty sure it’s inappropriate to even consider how attractive Lance is when he’s currently naked and clenching around nothing in an effort to keep from soaking the sheets anymore than he already has. But Lance is wearing those jogging pants, the grey ones, that settle low on their waist and leave the prominent shape of their hip bones on display, just the faintest hint of dark hair visible above the elastic of the waistband. Keith can’t help but stare at the best of times, but especially now. Come to think of it, though the room is dark, he swears he can even see the telling outline of Lance’s cock against the thin fabric. His mouth feels dry as he swallows hard. 

He averts his eyes pointedly, heart racing in his chest.

“... I’m thinking soup.” Keith offers to the room, generally, not daring to look Lance in their eyes.

“ _ Soup _ ?”

“For dinner.” Keith clarifies, though he’s not sure why he has to. Lance looks totally spaced out, their eyes glassy and faraway. Keith’s words seem to bring them back to the moment though, and they blink, realization dawning across their features. Slowly, one of their usual smiles graces their lips, and Keith feels the first shred of hope that this might be something they can get past.

“Oh, right.” Lance nods slowly, the smile not faltering in the slightest, if anything growing stronger and bolder. Keith isn’t sure exactly what’s displayed on his face right about now, but he’s sure he must be plainly transparent, Lance reading him like a book. God, could he be anymore obvious than this? He can’t even be truly upset about being walked in on because it’s Lance, and nothing they do ever manages to upset Keith. “I guess I’ll get right on that. Maybe we’ll mix up one of those cookie mixes for dessert?”

“Yeah, sounds good?” Keith wheezes around an incredulous laugh, shaking his head at Lance in obvious disbelief. Are they seriously carrying on a conversation about food right now? What the hell? And Lance doesn’t even leave after getting their answer, they stay exactly where they are, hovering in Keith’s doorway like they’re looking for an excuse to stay… and well, isn’t that a thought?

Keith finds his mouth moving without his permission, tongue curling to form words he’s unaware of until he’s already spoken them and they’re out in the open. “I’m probably gonna give up here any minute now and go take a freezing cold shower, so I’ll catch up with you later once I’ve had a minute to stew in the horrific experience that is being walked in by your hot roommate when you’re humping your bed like a useless slug.”

Fuck.

“Hot roommate, huh?” Lance looks entirely too full of themselves already, Keith’s words clearing having gone to their head. They’ve always been particularly insufferable when it comes to flirting, Keith knows this, he’s seen it in action countless times. But the fact stands, it’s never been directed at him, and he’s not sure that all of his observations until this point did anything to prepare him for it now.

He really, really hopes that Lance isn’t doing this just because Keith has made himself so plainly available and willing. As much as he’d enjoy a friends with benefits type relationship, or even a one time only good hard fuck to sate his curiosity… that’s not what he wants. He wants so much more.

“Fuck off, it’s not like you didn’t know.” Keith scoffs, rolling his eyes. He plays it off dismissively, hopes it isn’t obvious how very invested he really is right now. He’s holding his breath, just waiting on the first sign that Lance could possibly feel the same. But Lance keeps smirking at him, their eyes alight with that familiar mischief that Keith loves and dreads in equal parts. “You seriously didn’t know?”

“Well, I might have  _ hoped _ , but I definitely didn’t  _ know _ .” Lance clarifies, and by this point they’re smiling so hard that it’s blinding, and Keith feels impossibly sheepish under the force of it. He stiffens, buries his face back into the pillow out of shyness. Lance doesn’t give him the reprieve of leaving him to stew in peace, instead crossing the room and settling on the edge of the mattress next to him.

“Great. Just great. Of course this is how this conversation would go.” Keith mumbles into the fabric, words muffled but just loud enough that he knows Lance must hear him. Lance’s hand settles on his shoulder, their touch light and fleeting, like they’re worried he’ll recoil from it. But even now, everything considered, Keith doesn’t find himself wanting to back away.

“You good?” Lance asks him, growing bolder, weaving their fingers through the short hairs at the nape of Keith’s neck. Despite himself, Keith leans into the touch, and then Lance is stroking their hand through all of Keith’s hair like it isn’t unwashed and damp with sweat. Keith can’t help it, he preens under the attention, body alive with desire as it is.

“No, I’m not fucking good.” Keith mutters, shifting away from the touch before he does something drastic like arch up into it like a cat, or moan aloud at how good Lance’s blunt fingernails feel against his scalp. He lifts his head from the pillow, staring tiredly up at Lance. “This is the most embarrassing thing to happen to me, but I can’t even fully embrace the mortification because I’m so fucking  _ horny _ . I’ve never been so frustrated in my life. I’m about to call up my toxic ex and tell him to come over here and fuck me, consequences be damned.”

“That seems a little extreme.” Lance laughs gently, eyes sparkling and smile glistening, and Keith is pretty sure he’s losing his head at this point but god, he’s so far gone. And he’s also so pathetically horny, he doesn’t have an ounce of blood left in his brain, it’s all gone southward. 

When Keith drops his head again, it’s to rest it on Lance’s thigh, practically using his lap as a pillow.

Not quite though, because now that they’re this close, Keith is absolutely sure he wasn’t imagining the bulge in Lance’s jogging pants. And he’s pretty sure it’d be crossing yet another line to bury his face right into it, no matter how tempting.

All the while, Lance keeps carding through his hair.

“There’s gotta be a more efficient way to-”

“Are you gonna give me masturbation pointers? Is that what’s happening here?” Keith interrupts them, being purposely difficult. Lance pinches him on the ear for that, chuckling under their breath.

“Not quite.” Lance mumbles. And though Keith doesn’t dare to hope, there’s really no denying the direction this is headed in now. Lance isn’t only not physically repulsed by the sight of him naked and writhing against his bed, they’re intrigued enough to be sitting here now, patting Keith’s hair. There’s only one thing that can mean. Even indifference wouldn’t lead to this outcome. Still, Keith holds his breath, not sure if he’s imagining this or not. “Do you want a hand, Keith?”

Even after Lance comes out and asks it, Keith finds himself still holding his breath, disbelieving.

“To do what with, exactly?” Keith begs them to elaborate, to break it to him in plain terms, so he can know without a shadow of a doubt that this is really happening. Lance is looking down at him like he’s managed to totally amuse them, clearly fighting off another bout of laughter.

“Open to interpretation.” Lance manages eventually, shrugging their shoulders. At that, Keith decides that this conversation is definitely happening, whether he believes it or not. He scrambles to sit up and Lance helps him with an arm on his side, helping him upright until they’re looking into each other’s eyes directly again. Even during a moment like this, Lance’s expression is completely open and approachable, calming. It makes this whole thing a lot less daunting.

“Is this a joke? If it is, it’s incredibly poorly-timed.” Keith informs them, eyebrows raised. “I’m too horny right now to try and distinguish the difference between your sarcasm and your seriousness. If you don’t mean it, you’d better tell me now before I do something stupid and kiss you.”

For a long moment, they simply stare at each other, the air between them charged and tense. Then, ever so slowly, Lance starts to lean into his space. Keith doesn’t meet them halfway, but he doesn’t back away either, holding his ground until he can feel the soft puffs of Lance’s breath against his lips as they speak.

“Keith, I don’t know where you got the idea that I’m a totally selfless saint helping you out of the kindness of my heart… but it’s just not true. I’ve had ulterior motives from the start. I’ve been thinking about this moment since the day we met.” Lance explains softly, voice dropped into a hushed and personable whisper. It feels heady, Keith’s head is spinning, trying and failing to process the information when Lance is so close to him. He’s staring into those pools of blue and drowning. “Is that wrong of me?”

Keith kisses them.

He kisses them hard right from the start, making up for the fact that his hands are useless to pull them in closer by the flimsy tank top they’re wearing. Luckily, Lance gives as good as they get, and it’s not long before they’re leaning in closer and letting Keith lick into their mouth properly. 

It doesn’t really come as a surprise that Lance is unfairly good at kissing. They’ve had a lot of experience, as far as Keith knows, and they’re a people pleaser by nature. It’s like they’re perfectly in tune with Keith’s body and his reactions, catching on dangerously fast to exactly how he likes his bottom lip bitten, his tongue sucked on. Lance kisses him like it’s an acquired skill, constantly getting better, constantly waiting on his reactions every step of the way and bouncing off the feedback they get.

Based on that alone, Keith has a good idea of how Lance is going to be in bed… and it makes impatience burn hotter than the arousal in his gut. 

He pulls away from the kiss, settling one of his wrapped hands on Lance’s chest to gently push them back. Lance backs off without question, eyes fluttering open and revealing the way their pupils are blown wide with lust. Keith leans back into their space again, already missing the closeness.

“It might have been wrong, if I couldn’t say that I’ve been thinking about the very same thing.” Keith says, eventually, after they’ve both had a moment to catch their breath. Their foreheads are pressed together, matching sly grins on their reddened lips. Lance looks so good just-kissed, their lips a pale red and shining wetly in the dim-lighting of the room, Keith feels tempted to kiss them again.

But Lance moves before he gets the chance to, their hands settling on the blanket covering Keith’s lap. And for a moment, Keith had almost forgotten about his predicament, but now he’s sheepishly aware again. He’s even more sheepish when Lance reaches over with their other hand and makes a point to turn off Keith’s vibrator, a lopsided smile quirking the corner of their lips upward. Fuck. They look entirely too charming like that.

“Is this okay?” Lance asks, tugging on the blanket lightly to emphasize what the request is. And Keith does take a moment to consider, to ponder whether he really wants to do this. They still haven’t really clarified if there’s feelings involved, or if this is a one-time only offer. Keith would hate to lose Lance now, he really would. But he also can’t bring himself to back out now that he’s so close to having the person he’s wanted for months now. All he can do is hope their relationship is salvageable after what’s bound to be the best fuck of his life.

Unceremoniously, he kicks the blanket off his lap and moves up the bed to lean back against the headboard, deciding that bashfulness is a lost cause at this point. Lance crawls clumsily after him, kicking their socks off as they go.

“Shirt stays on.” He tells Lance, his tone firm, no room for negotiation. He doesn’t have a binder on right now and though he trusts that Lance understands, would be the last person to judge him, he can’t quiet the part of himself that panics at the mere thought of anyone seeing his bare chest. It won’t be long until he’s saved up enough for his top surgery and things will be easier then, but for now he knows his limits and he draws a hard line in the sand.

“Fine by me.” Lance agrees immediately, light and casual about it, though their eyes hold a familiar amount of respect. Keith doesn’t hesitate to spread his legs wide, and Lance fills the space he makes in an instant, moving up the length of his body until they’re kissing again. Keith moans into their mouth, fisting his hands uselessly against the sheets, wishing he could grip Lance’s hair properly. His legs wrap loosely around Lance’s hips, caging them in until their bodies slot together.

It’s Lance’s turn to moan then, their hips stuttering against Keith’s as they break off the kiss. Keith pouts the slightest bit, but quickly thinks better of it when he realizes what Lance is doing. They reach down between their bodies, slips a finger tentatively between Keith’s folds, and even in the dark Keith can see the way it comes away slick and shining. “God, Keith, you’re fucking soaked. Are you really that worked up?”

“You have no fucking idea. I’ve been at this for literally an hour and I haven’t come  _ once _ .” Keith relays the information to them like it’s a tragedy, the worst thing they’ll ever hear. Lance gives him a sympathetic pat on the thigh, but that’s about it, and Keith can already feel his patience dwindling. He knows Lance might be out of their element here, maybe isn’t sure about where and how Keith will want to be touched, but the simple fact of the matter is Lance could do just about anything right now and Keith would gladly take it in stride if it meant finally getting off. “Are you planning on actually touching me at any point or are you just here to admire the view? I’m really, really not in the mood to be teased.”

“Alright, alright, I’ve got you.” Lance laughs, clambering back down the bed. Immediately, Keith misses having them in his space, but the loss quickly becomes worth it when he has Lance settled between his legs and staring mischievously up the line of his body. Keith groans, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. “Is this okay? Can I suck you?”

“Mm, fuck. Yes please.” 

“I’ve wanted to do this for _ so _ long.” Lance informs him, kissing across his inner thighs, tongue occasionally darting up to delve through the mess of slick coating his skin. And Keith trembles with anticipation, his entire body shuddering the closer Lance gets to where Keith really wants them.

“I won’t last.” Keith manages, as he feels Lance’s breath ghost across the apex of his body. 

“That’s sort-of the point, isn’t it?” Lance grins up at him then, toothy and dimpled, and Keith gets the vaguest feeling that he’s nowhere near prepared for what Lance is about to unleash on him. He flops back against the pillows, spreads his legs wider, and braces himself for the inevitable. He can’t deny the thrill it sends through him, being at Lance’s mercy.

Lance doesn’t exactly show him mercy.

They start out slow, nosing at the apex where his thigh meets his groin, pressing clumsy kisses to the neatly-trimmed hair there, rather than where Keith really wants their lips to be kissing right now. He tries to express as much too, squirming uselessly in an effort to get Lance’s mouth on him properly, but there doesn’t seem to be any rushing this along. So Keith sulks, leans back and breathes heavily, eyes tightly closed against the not-near-enough onslaught of attention.

That’s why he’s hardly prepared at all for the moment Lance switches everything up, suddenly dipping their tongue between Keith’s folds, lapping up the wetness there with each broad swipe. Now, oversensitive and overwhelmed, Keith has to fight the urge to squirm away from the direct stimulation. It feels like too much, especially when Lance wraps their lips around the sensitive nub of his clit, sucking hard on it right from the start, pointed tip of his tongue flickering back and forth across it. 

It’s everything he’d been needing and more and what felt like a torturously slow climb before now feels like a rollercoaster drop, his climax approaching him dizzyingly fast.

“Shh, Keith, calm down. You’re gonna knee me in the face at this rate.” Lance whispers to him, but the words and the warning as a whole are lost to him. Keith can’t help it right now if he thrashes, if he writhes back against Lance’s tongue like every second without it is the most unique form of torture. He needs it like he’s never needed anything before, is sure he’ll die if he doesn’t get to come soon.

And when Lance’s tongue delves inside of him for the first time, curled to a point and probing deep inside where he’s clenching aimlessly around nothing in a desperate urge to be fucked properly… it sends a jolt of pleasure up Keith’s spine so strong it staggers his breathing. And then Lance fucks him in earnest, their tongue darting in and out of his body where it’s loose and sloppy, more than eager to take it. Keith braces himself against it as best he can, but there’s really no preparing himself for the way Lance’s tongue undoes him. They’re infuriatingly good at this. 

“Hnng, fuck, _ o-oh _ ! Lance! Right there,  _ right th _ -”

Keith might scream. But if anyone (namely the R.A) happens to ask about it later, then it didn’t happen.

His orgasm hits strong, has his entire body drawing up tight like a bowstring. He throws his head back, hips jerking clumsily against Lance’s face, chasing the pleasure even as it overwhelms him. It crests and crashes over him wave after wave, and Lance keeps toying with his clit all the while, lips wrapped tight around it to imitate a blowjob.

And when Keith eventually comes down enough for his hips to hit the bed again, Lance pulls back, chuckling quietly under their breath. Keith can feel the smugness radiating off of them, but he can’t deny that it’s probably well-deserved after that.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” Lance manages, their voice alight with amusement. Keith is panting like he’s run a marathon, still twitching with the aftershocks that run through him. He feels rather than sees the wetness that covers the entire lower half of Lance’s face when he lands a kiss to his stomach. Keith yanks his shirt back down before it rides up any higher, drawing a shaky breath.

And then Lance presses a kiss lower, to the treasure trail of dark hair leading southward. And then lower still, to where Keith’s clit is still swollen and pulsing, desperate for attention, ready to go again. Keith’s body is relentless when it gets like this, keyed up and raring to go, and he’s not entirely sure how many times he can come in a night when he tries. He’s tried to keep count before, but he always gives up around the fifth or sixth. 

Before Lance can move away again, Keith is arching off the bed to grind against his face. When Lance attempts and fails to stifle a laugh, Keith nearly does kick him. As it is, he just gives a long-suffering sigh, flopping back against the bed and bouncing against the mattress. He stares pathetically up at Lance, begs them to take pity and go back to eating him out. 

“Mm. Fuck, Lance, stop playing around.”

“You don’t take no for an answer, do you?” Lance snickers, landing a playful nip to Keith’s thigh. Keith kicks blindly at him, resisting the urge to whine the longer Lance makes him wait. He’s coming down already, getting further from that second orgasm he was so close to being able to topple into if Lance had just kept fucking him through it. “Bet if you could use your hands properly you’d be pulling my hair out in clumps right now, or maybe scratching at my back like an animal. You could take what you want from me, force me to keep servicing you until you’ve come as many times as you please.”

“Show me a good time tonight and  _ maybe  _ you’ll find out.” Keith mutters, a trace of spite audible in his tone. Lance sits up then, bracing themselves on their arms, looming over Keith and staring down at him with intrigue. Keith pales under their close consideration, flushing crimson. He has to resist the urge to close his legs, knowing how fucked-out and wet he is already.

“Is that a promise?” 

“Please, Lance, don’t tease me right now.” Keith begs, despite himself. “I need it. Need you.”

“Well, when you put it like that, how am I meant to refuse you?” 

“You’re not.” Keith says matter-of-factly, something cruel in the smile he directs up at them. Lance kisses it off his face anyway, crawling over him to settle against the length of his body. Like this, Keith can feel Lance’s bulge against his thigh even through the sweatpants he’s wearing. He reaches a hand down, furious not for the first time that the wraps render him so useless. He can just barely graze his fingertips across it, enough to deduce that Lance is relatively  _ huge _ . At that realization, Keith bites hard on Lance’s lower lip, hard enough to draw a noise of protest from them as they pull away from the kiss. 

“You’re rough, I think I might be bleeding.” Lance complains, nursing their wound with a palm against their mouth. But Keith shushes them, rocking his bare hips against their clothed ones, watching the way their expression shifts from annoyance to desire in an instant. Lance blinks at him through blackened eyes, lust so prominent Keith feels like he can taste it. “There’s lube and condoms, bedside drawer.”

“What? You want me to fuck you?” Lance sounds the slightest bit awed, like they hadn’t even considered the possibility of taking things further. And while Keith is honored and flattered that Lance had been so blindly willing to respect his boundaries, that just wasn’t the case. Keith has wanted Lance’s cock inside him for as long as he’s known them, he’d be a fool not to take it while he has the chance presented to him on a silver platter.

Lance is already so hard, Keith is sure he can feel them twitching in his hold.

“Think you can handle that, Sharpshooter?” Keith teases, dropping the nickname he’s heard thrown around campus, the one that all of Lance’s friends use against them whenever they’re trying to tease. It has a different feeling in this context though, especially when he watches the devilish smirk unfold across Lance’s pink lips. “I’ve heard the rumors, maybe I wanna experience it for myself. Can you blame me?”

“ _ Keith _ .”

“Think you’ve bit off more than you can chew?” Keith asks them, eyelashes fluttering coyly as he leans into their space. He speaks against Lance’s lips, kissing them and tasting himself on their tongue. “Are you having doubts? Wondering if you’re up to par? I know what I want and I won’t settle for less.”

“‘Course not, I just figured I’d go easy on you. You were pretty loud just now, never would’ve taken you for a screamer. I thought you might need a break.” Lance whispers back, that same blatant confidence back with a vengeance, radiating off of Lance so strong it’s blinding. Keith grins, pushing clumsily at the waistband of Lance’s joggers, hoping they’ll get the message and take them off themself given that Keith’s hands are next to useless. Even now, there’s a dull ache in his wrists, but the arousal running through his bloodstream slow and thick like molasses is enough to distract from it.

“Think again, then. You’re good, but not _ that  _ good.” Keith says, mostly playing. But it ignites something fierce in Lance’s expression. And when Lance’s hands settle on Keith’s ass again, they’re bruising, as they lift his hips and settle him back down in their lap. From this angle, Lance grinds against him, their clothed cock slotting seamlessly between Keith’s ass cheeks.

“Is that a challenge I hear?” Lance asks, rolling their hips pointedly, a long languid rock that promises a fucking that Keith will remember for years to come. Lance is perfectly tactile with it, calculated like they’ve done it a hundred times before. And maybe they have. “By the time we’re through, I’ll have you crying, begging for more and begging me to stop in the same breath.”

“I’d like to see it.” Keith tells him, half the truth, half a challenge. Lance rises to the task easily, stripping their shirt over their head and tossing it aside. Keith admires all the tanned skin on display to him then, mouth dry with how badly he suddenly wants to lean forward and take one of Lance’s nipples into his mouth, a dusky brown and pebbled hard with arousal. Only, he can’t, because Lance has a punishing grip on his ass and their weight is keeping Keith pinned to the place, so there’s not much he can do but wait.

“How do you want m-?” Lance starts to say, and before they’ve even finished asking Keith has managed to wiggle out from their hold. He knows exactly what he wants and he wants it badly enough that he’s not even going to hesitate to ask for it. He rolls over, dropping his chest against the bed and keeping his hips lifted, shaking them enticingly in the air. Lance lands a little spank to his ass for that, but it’s entirely worth it, especially because he doesn’t mind it at all. 

“Want you to take my ass while you use your fingers to play with my pussy.” It borders on a demand, he’s so quick to spit it out. Lance’s hands settle on his ass again then, but this time their touch is gentle and reverent, smoothing over each globe of his ass with care like it’s the most delicate thing they’ve ever touched. Keith pushes back into it, silently pleading for more.

“What can I say? I love a man that knows what he wants.” Lance murmurs mostly to themself, given how distracted they seem by the sight of Keith on his hands and knees in front of them. At that point, Lance moves across the bed to fumble through the drawer, and Keith buries his face into his arms to wait out however long it takes them to get ready. He can’t see anything like this, but he can hear it. He hears the familiar pop of the lube cap, hears the slick sound of it squirting out onto Lance’s fingers.

Part of him feels tempted to look, but he stays stubbornly folded in on himself.

“Let me know when you feel ready, yeah?” It causes him to jump when the words are accompanied by Lance’s fingers brushing against the tight rim of his asshole, applying light but persistent pressure. They start with one, one that slips readily inside of Keith and meets little resistance as Lance presses it in deeper, to the final knuckle. Keith breathes through it, body hungrily sucking the digit deeper, ready for more already. Lance makes some manner of impressed noise behind him and Keith huffs, blowing his hair out of his face with the heavy exhale.

After that, Lance makes quick work of routinely stretching him open. One finger quickly turns into two, and two turns into three not long after that. Keith takes three fingers well, the sound of lube squelching inside of him filling the otherwise quiet room and only working to embarrass him further. 

“I’m gonna be honest, Lance, it’s a little underwhelming so far.” 

“I’ll show you underwhelming.” Lance snipes back at him and Keith barely manages to stifle his laughter in response. He lifts himself off the mattress, curiously looking back over his shoulder to where Lance is fumbling with their jogging pants. They untie the string and then shove them down their thighs, dragging the fabric down either thigh separately.

“Strange segue into taking your pants off, if I’m being honest.” Keith snickers, debating whether to tease Lance further than that when they’d all but walked right into it. He promptly forgets any snide comments that might have been on the tip of his tongue, eyes widening comically as Lance pushes their underwear down as well. Their cock springs up, hard and leaking, flushed red at the tip. Lance’s fist wraps around the shaft and it barely covers half of it from Keith’s sight. Keith blinks owlishly, shock no doubt showing across his features as Lance fists their massive cock like nothing’s out of the ordinary at all. “ _ Holy shit _ .”

Of fucking course Lance has a huge dick. Of  _ course _ they do.

“You want a minute to familiarize yourself or can I fuck you now?” Lance asks, tearing open the condom wrapper with their teeth and rolling it over their length with practiced ease. Keith’s eyes flick up to theirs and they exchange a look, lingering and suggestive. 

“Mm, fuck, put it in me.” Keith relents, getting back into position and pushing his ass back, giving Lance easier access. Not that they seem to need it, given how easily they shuffle closer on their knees, hand settling on the small of Keith’s back to hold him steady while the other holds their cock and feeds it into his waiting hole. Keith moans like a whore when the head presses against his rim, pressure increasing until it pushes past the resistance and fits snug inside him. 

Lance’s cock seems never ending, whenever Keith thinks they’ve finally bottomed out, they’re pushing that little bit further and stretching him wider. By the time Lance’s hips are finally flush against his and he’s sure that he’s managed to take the entirety of their cock, Keith isn’t sure that he’s ever taken anyone so deep before. “ _ Lance _ . Fuck, you’re so big. I don’t know how you _ fit _ .”

“Is this what you wanted? To be stuffed so full of cock you’ll feel where I was tomorrow too?” Lance coos the words at him and it comes across as just a hint condescending, but Keith can’t even find it within himself to rally for his pride. He just nods his head, trying valiantly not to drool on the pillow.

And when even that doesn’t get him what he wants, he whines high and needy in the back of his throat, reaching blindly back and smacking his hand brace against Lance’s side to get their attention.

“Move!”

“Pushy, pushy.” Lance chuckles, but then they’re listening. They pull their hips back slowly, making sure Keith feels every last inch of the loss, or maybe trying to go easy on him to start. But Keith is ready, beyond ready, he’s been wanting to get fucked for ages and he’s been wanting to get fucked by Lance for longer yet. There’s no pain and hardly any discomfort at all, with how thoroughly he’s been stretched.

Keith tries to relay this information, despite the fact his tongue has tied itself into knots.

He pushes back against Lance just before their cock slips out entirely, forcing it back inside of him at just the right angle to make him cry out as he’s filled again. From that point on, he gives up on relying on Lance to set the pace, beginning to buck his hips back against them and fuck himself on that massive cock like he owns it. Lance just chuckles above him too, hand stroking soothingly up the length of his back, leaning back to watch where their cock is disappearing inside of Keith like it’s the most fascinating show they’ve ever seen. Keith is too horny to shift away from it either, forced to fight between the part of himself that wants to be shy, and the part that’s absolutely ruthless in its pursuit of orgasm.

Eventually, Lance relents and gives him some reprieve from where his thighs are burning from the physical exertion. It comes out of nowhere, after minutes of simply leaning back and letting Keith do the work, suddenly Lance grabs for his hips and pulls him forcibly back onto their cock in the same instant he thrusts forward. They spear Keith deep and suddenly, filling him in one cruel blow that has Keith’s voice ringing out loudly in the air. Lance picks up a steady rhythm of working their hips and fucking their cock into Keith’s ass at that point, uncaring if it’s too much too soon, and Keith’s entire body tenses as the beginning of his high finally creeps toward him.

This time it doesn’t disappear just as fast either, as Lance starts a steady pace rocking into him, hands scrabbling across Keith’s hips for better leverage. As a matter of fact, there’s simply no escaping it. As much as Keith wants to come, he also wants this to last, given he’s not sure if they’ll be able to do it again. But there’s no squirming away from the assault on his sensitive nerves, not as the head of Lance’s cock reaches deeper inside of him than he thinks maybe anything has. 

They’re not even moving particularly fast yet, still just testing the waters of how Keith likes to be fucked, a hint of hesitation behind their thrusts that Keith can’t help but notice. He knows they’re capable of better, rumors like the ones Lance has surfacing about them don’t start from fucking slow and caring the whole way through. So really, it’s a tad embarrassing that Keith is already close again, lurching toward his next orgasm unprepared and still trying to catch his breath from the last.

By the time Lance finally starts to pick up speed, flexing their hips against Keith’s and fucking into him with some force behind it, Keith is already embarrassingly close. His abdomen is drawing up tight, his thighs trying and failing to force themselves together, his pussy clenching needily around nothing. He wishes he had Lance’s fingers to bear down on, to rock back against and feel working inside him.

As it is, he comes relatively untouched, just from the barely-there slap of Lance’s balls against his cunt while they start to fuck his ass with more enthusiasm. But Keith has never needed much, especially not when he gets to this point, so when pleasure overtakes him seemingly out of nowhere, he just leans into it rather than shying away. He comes hard, eyes pressed as tightly closed as he can get them, stars dancing on the inside of his eyelids. His hands curl uselessly in their braces, desperately wishing they could hold onto something as the pleasure shakes him to his core.

Behind him, Lance’s thrusts slow. Then, regrettably, stop.

“Did you just…” 

“Shut-up.”

“Oh no, no, I don’t think I will.” Lance snickers under their breath, running a hand up the length of Keith’s spine, tracing each of the nobs along the way with teasing gentleness. Keith grumbles, burying his face into the pillows and wishing Lance would move already. “Barely even fucking you yet, babe, and you’re already coming untouched? Aren’t you adorable? Do you even need my fingers to satisfy you, or are you happy with just my cock?”

“ _ Lance _ .” Keith bites out in warning, frustration evident. 

The aggression behind the unspoken demand must convey, because Lance is laughing airily and then going back to fucking him. Except it isn’t the same pace from before, getting familiar with each other and working their way up to something more. It’s suddenly the ruthless and unforgiving fucking Keith had been after, the one Lance had promised him. He only just came and already he feels like he could do it again, from the moment Lance starts to really give it to him.

“How’s that, huh?” Lance sneers, nails gripping at Keith’s thighs, hoisting him back onto his knees where they’d started to slide out from beneath him. Keith yelps as it has them sinking deeper inside of him than before, the new angle making it feel so much more overwhelming. He babbles uselessly as Lance plows him from behind, the roughness behind their thrusts making the bedframe hit the wall.

“It’s too much, it’s-”

“You want me to stop?” Lance asks, their tone amused like they very well know the answer to that question. Keith cries out in frustration, slamming his hand against the bed when Lance teasingly starts to slow again, taking it away from Keith.

“No!”

“Okay, okay, geesh.” Lance laughs, and then they go back to fucking Keith’s ass in earnest, even reaching around him to tease at his clit. Their fingers fumble the slightest bit with unfamiliarity, but Keith hardly has time to mourn his own ability to touch himself, because the pleasure builds just the same. It helps that Lance fucks him through it, their pace unrelenting. “Not stopping. You’ll just have to lay there and take it, yeah?”

“Fuck.” Keith moans.

“Eloquent.” Lance bites out, but even they sound affected now. Their breath is coming in heavy pants where they’re plastered against Keith’s back, sweat building between their bodies. They move together in sync, Keith presses back into Lance’s thrusts and meeting each one, even as they knock the breath from his lungs. He can feel himself tensing, body clenching hard to try and keep Lance inside with every thrust. Lance must notice it too, their thrusts losing rhythm the slightest bit. “You’re so fucking tight, oh my god, hugging my cock like a sleeve. If I was any bigger I don’t think I’d have fit.”

“Stop talking and  _ fuck me _ .”

“Actually, I’m a pretty skilled multi-tasker, I can do both at the same time.” Lance insists, and though Keith knows it to be the truth he really wishes it wasn’t. It’s one thing to tremble through the way Lance is handling his body, but it’s something else to listen to the things that slip past their lips in the heat of the moment. “Look so gorgeous, all flushed and needy, I don’t think I’d ever get tired of this sight.”

… Case in point.

“ _ L-Lance _ .” Keith stutters, feeling himself slowly succumb to the building pleasure in his core all over again. It’s coming on fast, faster than he’s ready for. “Oh fuck,  _ oh _ , just like that,  _ don’t stop _ , don’t-”

Keith comes with another cry of Lance’s name, this one far more broken than the last. He hardly recognizes his own voice, torn apart by pleasure as it is. It’s pitched and wanton, shameless with how he cries and whines through his high. Lance seems to like it though, their hips stuttering into him with more force, like it’s a reaction outside of their control.

“I don’t know if I should take this as a compliment to my skill or if you’re just extremely easy to please.”

“Fuck off.” Keith’s breathing is labored, his entire body shaking with each panting breath he takes. He’s slumped across the mattress, wants nothing more than to recoil from the heavy pressure of Lance’s cock inside of him and take a breather. He’s sure he can handle more, he wants more, just not  _ right away _ . He doesn’t know if he can handle it right away.

“Too busy fucking you.” Lance chuckles darkly, peppering kisses all across Keith’s skin, anywhere they can reach. Slowly, their hand smooths down Keith’s thigh from the outside, creeping around and shifting inward. Keith trembles in anticipation and dread alike, feeling as Lance’s fingers creep closer, until they’re finally tracing over his hole again. Keith whimpers, but he spreads his legs wider despite himself, a silent request. Lance snickers like they expected this outcome. “Yeah? You want my fingers?”

“I  _ just  _ came.” Keith complains weakly, even as he rocks down against Lance’s hand needily.

“I’m aware. Gonna make you come  _ again _ , if you let me.” Lance comments drily. Keith trembles as Lance’s fingers dip through his folds, tracing the seam of him where he’s soaked with his own cum. Lance shushes him when he attempts to shift away, and rewards him with a single finger dipping inside of him when he stops squirming. Keith’s breath hitches, eyes widen as Lance’s finger traces inside him, no doubt feeling how wet he is and marveling at knowing they caused it. 

“Y-Yeah. Fuck. I want them.” Keith relents with a groan, like it pains him deeply to admit. Lance’s hips stutter in response and this time Keith isn’t sure if it’s meant to reward him, or just an involuntary reaction to hearing Keith pleading for more. Either way, Lance groans something deep and throaty, plainly satisfied with Keith’s answer.

Lance starts to fuck him again then, working their cock into Keith’s from behind while their fingers toy with his pussy, mostly teasing, just shy of being enough to get off on. Lance gives Keith’s clit a flick, fingers wrapping loosely around where it’s swollen and pulsing, begging for attention… but then they don’t give him anything more, dancing back down to slip them inside him. Three fingers again, all at once, where he’s already open and ready to take them. Still, it makes Keith cry out, thrashing uselessly back against it to take them to the hilt. It makes an obscenely wet noise as he does, sloppy and blatantly sexual, Keith’s body feverishly sucking them in.

“Listen to that, baby, your pussy’s louder than you are.” Lance drawls against the shell of his ear, kissing their way back to the nape of Keith’s neck as they speak, and hitching their fingers inside Keith hard to emphasize their point. Keith flushes head to toe at that comment, but he finds he doesn’t mind it, finds he likes the way Lance’s voice goes dark and rough when they’re saying absolutely filthy things. And he definitely doesn’t mind the way Lance’s fingers are taking him apart, precise and brutally efficient about it.

“Ugh, you’re the worst.” Keith says anyway, though it’s not very believable when he’s laughing to himself. He can’t say that people make him laugh during sex often, but it doesn’t necessarily surprise him that Lance would be the first to do it consistent. They’re just like that, always ready to joke or poke fun, anything to keep the mood light and fun in whatever room they’re in. Keith likes that about them. He likes a lot about them, if he’s being honest. And he really, really hopes this isn’t the last time they do this.

Lance’s next thrust in has Keith’s legs sliding out from under him with a pathetic whimper of sorts, as he slides against the mattress and ends up flat against it. Lance moves with him, their cock and fingers staying exactly where they are, splitting Keith open wide and fucking him even as he naturally shifts away from it.

He can feel himself making the climb toward his high again and he’s not entirely sure he’s ready for it, though his mind tells him he wants it, wants it more than anything… his body is blown-out in oversensitivity, to the point every one of Lance’s thrusts are sweet torture. It feels so good it almost hurts, as Lance leans back and starts fucking their hips into him in short, shallow punctuated thrusts, with enough speed and force between them that the head of their cock hits inside Keith exactly where he needs it to.

All the while, Lance’s fingers fuck him dutily through it, despite the awkward angle. By the end of this, maybe Lance will have to wear wrist braces too, the bastard.

“You gonna come? Gonna come on my fingers?” Lance asks, fingers dipping inside of Keith fast and hard, slickness dripping between them and down to the sheets below. Keith squirms, uncertain whether he’s after more to reach his next high faster, or less so he can finally come down from the pleasure he’s been drowning in for what feels like hours now. But then Lance gives him a little tap on the ass with their free hand, just like earlier, barely enough to call it a spank… and Keith keens.

His resolve crumbles and he stops fighting it, instead gritting his teeth and forcing himself to push back against it. His entire body feels like a livewire, especially when Lance crooks their fingers in response, rubbing up against his inner walls and no doubt feeling from the inside where their cock is repeatedly bullying its way inside of him. “That’s it, Keith, let go for me. One more time. You can do it. Don’t cry. You wanted this, remember? You wanted to come so badly you were humping your bed, but now you have me. I’m gonna take care of you.”

Keith hadn’t even realized he  _ was  _ crying, but now it’s all he can think about.

It’s too much. Though Keith is right there on the edge, he’s finding it hard to let go and embrace it, when every wave of pleasure almost hurts. Goosebumps are raising all along his skin, shivers wracking his frame as he loses himself to the feeling of Lance’s cock sliding back and forth inside of him, stretching him open wide, pace staggering in the telltale way Keith recognizes right away.

What finally brings Keith off and shoves him unceremoniously over the edge is Lance coming. Lance comes with a low fucked-out groan, blatantly pleased and shameless about it. They buck their hips forward clumsily, for once Keith’s pleasure not the thought on the forefront of their mind. Buried to the hilt inside, Lance grinds against Keith’s ass clumsily, repeating a litany of curses and Keith’s name under his breath. Keith basks in the attention, in the way he feels Lance losing control over the pace, the angle, the things that slip past their lips unbidden… and the steady, calculated drive of their fingers into Keith’s cunt.

What had before been three fingers slotted inside him side by side, driving in at just the right angle to make sure he feels every press and rub against his inner walls… is now three fingers spread apart, spanning wide inside of Keith and flexing and curling reflexively as Lance shakes apart with pleasure. It’s rough enough that it’ll probably leave Keith sore afterward, blunt neatly-trimmed nails scratching against his insides… but it’s delicious in the same breath. He whines, throws his head back, and then moans Lance’s name into the quiet of the room so loud that he’s truly damned them to a series of noise complaints.

He doesn’t care.

Each orgasm milked out of him by Lance’s cock and their skilled hands seems better than the last, and though it’d seemed impossible for it to amount any further than it already had, the theory holds true. It seems to stretch on forever, until Keith feels dizzy with the amount of pleasure. He’s sure that he’s crying again now, his voice wet and sniveling as he whimpers Lance’s name right back through his own high, but he can’t find it within himself to care. He can’t really care about anything at all, mind reduced to a numb haze of warmth and satisfaction.

He doesn’t come back to his senses immediately after the pleasure fades, he still feels fuzzy around the edges as he rubs his tears off on the blanket. He sighs, long and heavy, basking in the fading pleasure and trying to make sense of what he’s meant to do now if it’s not promptly falling asleep.

Truth be told, it’s a blatant relief when Lance finally pulls out and crawls out of the bed to go about cleaning themself up. They return with a wet rag and their underwear tugged back onto their body, and Keith is still laying there trembling, spaced out. 

Lance goes about cleaning him up then and Keith whines the whole way through it, being generally difficult as the cool rag sends his abused senses into overdrive. 

Keith’s so pathetically overstimulated, both his ass and pussy fluttering needily the moment he’s no longer filled, shaped around Lance’s cock and fingers respectively and desperate for more of each. He feels terribly empty with the loss, but he’s also not sure he could have handled having another orgasm coaxed out of him so relentlessly. He’s pretty certain he’s still experiencing aftershocks from the last one, not that he’ll ever let Lance know that. It’ll definitely go to their head, to know they’re the best lay Keith has ever had.

Lance collapses onto the mattress rather unceremoniously beside him and Keith grunts in acknowledgement, not even bothering to lift his head from the pillow. Lance chuckles at him, sounding entirely too pleased with themself. Keith would be perfectly content to fall asleep just like that and save everything else for later, like the clean-up and the conversation that’s surely waiting on them the moment they’re lucid enough to have it.

But the fact of the matter is, he’s laying in his own cum, and it’s hardly comfortable. Not to mention he still feels fucked out and needy, a part of him desperate to hold onto and cling to the closeness between them, not quite ready to give it up yet.

Keith groans. Uncomfortable, but far too lazy to do anything about it.

“Shh, come here.” Lance flings an arm out across the bed and Keith eyes it for a long moment, debating whether he can muster the energy to crawl into their space. But then Lance turns their head on the pillow and suddenly they’re looking right at Keith, eyes wide open oceans of blue, sparkling like the sun’s reflecting off the water’s surface. Lance smiles at him and Keith is helpless but to crawl across the mattress and collapse into their hold. 

Instantly, Lance’s arms wrap around him, and Keith snuggles back against them until the slope of his spine is pressed directly to Lance’s chest. It’s a strong and grounding weight that he can’t get enough of, his eyes already beginning to droop closed. Absentmindedly, Lance grabs for his hand and toys with the ends of his fingers where they’re visible outside of the wrap. “These wraps are gonna be so sweaty and gross after this. Can you wash these? You’re gonna need to.”

“Shut-up.” Keith groans, interrupting himself with sleepy chuckles that slip past his lips unbidden. Lance seems to like them though, as they press close and nose along the nape of Keith’s neck, peppering fleeting kisses across the flushed skin there.

“So…” Lance whispers, their voice holding an audible amount of hesitation. That’s rare in itself, given that Lance hardly thinks things through, and normally it would have Keith rushing to respond out of panic. But now, he closes his eyes and resists the urge to grin like the cat who got the cream. He knows what’s coming, it’s terribly predictable, and also nerve wracking. “What does this make us? Any ideas?”

“What do you want to be?” Keith says, somehow managing to keep his tone even. Lance seems uncertain for another moment, but then they seem to take inventory on Keith’s smile and realize how ridiculous they’re being. Lance’s hand lands back on his head and Keith is entirely too happy to lean into and chase that touch, long fingers working out the knots in his hair from rubbing it against the pillow.

“Yours.” Lance says matter-of-factly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it is, given the state they’re both in, Keith wouldn’t even be surprised. “Want you to be mine too.”

“I’ve  _ been _ yours.” Keith admits in a whisper, torn cracking and hollow from his throat. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, my obligatory klance fic named after For Him by Troye Sivan. It's THE klance song, im sorry, it was gonna happen sooner or later and its now happened. I tried to be discreet by naming it lyrics from the super secret 4th verse (my favorite verse) but let's be real, it's not that sneaky. I, Kali, admit to being a generic titler of my fics, you have it in writing right here. Some people are talented at coming up with poetic and moving titles, some people are good at writing descriptive porn, and some lucky lads are capable of both. I am not one of those lucky lads.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!! It was super fun to write, it's been a while since I've done a shorter fic like this one and it's SO refreshing compared to 100k oneshots that tear u apart inside. 
> 
> If you're interested in seeing more of my works or listening to me ramble:  
> @melancholymango is my main twitter/tumblr  
> @redgaysonly is my fandom/nsfw twitter


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